


Tickles

by anarchist



Category: DMMd, DRAMAtical Murder (Visual Novel), DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Tickles, tickle fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-24 06:02:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6143833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anarchist/pseuds/anarchist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Noiz and Aoba share a train route, and from there they start an innocent affair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tickles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> I was given the prompt Noiz x Aoba and Tickle Fight! by a friend on Tumblr. Here's what came of it. Rated mature for sexual suggestion, though I'd say it's safe for work.

They met on the train on the way home from work, one coming from the south and one from the north and here they were, meeting in the middle on a train headed west. And that’s where they met, standing next to each other countless times on packed commutes, occasionally brushing arms or - when lucky - squished so close to each other they tasted the want, the need, on the other’s breath.

And it was on one of those squished commutes that they spoke. The blue haired one spoke first, shifting closer to the other as a commuter moved past them to reach the doors, “Sorry - ah - sorry.” He looked up, meeting the eyes of the blond, and a moment passed.

“Comfy?” the blond asked. His lips were upturned crookedly. “There’s a bit of room behind you, if you wanna… move a bit.”

“Oh,” the blue haired one flushed, “I’m sorry - I didn’t realize.”

“Pretty sure you just wanted to be close to me.” Was it just him, or was the blond leaning closer now? “Where you to?”

“Ah, next stop is mine-”

“I know that, I know. I see you get off there every day. I mean, who are you? Where are you heading to, you know, after this?”

The blue haired one was scarlet-faced now, stepping back towards the door, which would be opening any minute. “Aoba, and home. I’m heading home.” The blond stepped closer. Aoba was uncomfortable, sure, but he was also… attracted to this individual. “... Or? I could head out? And get something to eat? With you?”

At this, the blond stepped back again and let out something between a laugh and a snarl. “That’s what I was going for; you catch on quick for someone who seems so dense. My name’s Noiz, and I’d like to sleep with you.”

Aoba froze. The stop came. People pressed around him, escaping the sweaty insides of the train, and by the time he came around again, the doors had closed. The train was moving again, further west, and Noiz was smiling now.

“No offense, Aoba, but I was kind of hoping that would happen. This way you can come to my place. What do you say?”

Four strikes. There were four strikes, setting off all of Aoba’s alarm bells. Strike one: stranger knows his stop. Strike two: stranger, talking to him, flirting immediately. Strike three: stranger so abruptly stating his intentions. Strike four: stranger manipulating him into missing his stop.

But Noiz was cute, and Aoba had had his eyes on him for a while, and he wanted to know him more, and he had to admit that the manipulation was quite clever, and he was a grown-ass man so why not? Why not go sleep with a stranger? Just because they met on the bus instead of at the club, did that make it any weirder?

So they got off several stops later, and Noiz, the true gentleman, ordered them a pizza and got out the video games and won every single time, except for once when Aoba landed a K.O. in Mortal Kombat and Noiz’s brows met in the middle and his nose wrinkled around his piercing and he snapped, “Beginner’s luck!” before promptly switching to a new game.

It was late, the sky pitch black, by the time they touched. Hours of gaming, now into Smash Bros, Aoba, frustrated at his losses and annoyed by Noiz’s childish gloating, jabbed a finger into Noiz’s side.

It was the lack of reaction that startled him.

Instead of squealing, instead of jolting away, Noiz just glanced over and said, “You wanna try that again?”

And so he did.

But Noiz did not react. 

How could he lose at every game - except for one - and also lose at making Noiz react via touch? How would this night go if he couldn’t make Noiz’s skin prick by touching the sensitive spot on his waist? Lost and confused, he watched as Noiz placed the controller down gently and slip his hands to Aoba’s thighs. Aoba’s skin prickled as Noiz ran his hands up to that spot on the waist, ready to go, but Noiz didn’t stop there. He moved up further, leaning into Aoba’s neck and giving it a gentle kiss, before whispering in his ear: “I’ll have you know, I have never lost at a tickle fight.”

And it was on. Noiz, on top of Aoba, pinning him down and tickling his neck and his armpits and tearing off his clothes to get closer to his ticklish spots, Aoba laughing so hard tears streamed down his face and he had to gasp for breath. He reached his arms up to tickle back, but every time he did so he exposed his sensitive armpits and rib region and Noiz was at it again, tickling and laughing and - and Aoba noticed, just now noticed, that Noiz was laughing too. His smile wasn’t crooked, wasn’t a smirk, wasn’t hiding - it was there, full-fledged, wide smile creasing his eyes as he laughed alongside Aoba - and then he stopped and shifted and Aoba sat up and wiped the tears from his face and he said, “That wasn’t fair, you got the jump on me.”

Noiz shrugged. He was still smiling, but his eyes weren’t quite glowing the same, “You can try it on me. It won’t work, though. I’ve never lost a tickle fight.” 

Aoba reached out, stroking from Noiz’s pierced ear down to his jaw. He rested his hand under Noiz’s chin and gave it a quick tickle, with no reaction. He moved his other hand there, meeting at Noiz’s clavicles, and tickled down to his chest. Nothing.

Aoba leaned back. “Do you… react to anything?” he asked.

That shrug again. The smile was almost gone. “I enjoy video games,” he said, “I enjoy pizza. I guess I react to those things.”

“But like, physically?” Aoba’s voice got higher, a note he carried when concerned, “I mean, you said you want to… sleep with me?”

“I enjoy tickling,” Noiz continued, forcing a smile, “I enjoy sleeping.”

“But that’s not what you mean when you say you want to sleep-”

“I know, Aoba,” Noiz looked away. Aoba caught a glimpse of a sort of grimace pass over his face as he stood up. “I know what I said and I know what it means, but the fact is that there are some things I can enjoy and some things that I can’t, and I just wanted to do the things I enjoy with you, and I want to sleep with you too, but I think that’ll wait a little bit, and maybe for tonight we can just sleep, you know?”

He was disappointed. His body yearned for more than just the harsh tickles given, but he was also flattered that someone so… temperamental about his likes and dislikes had chosen him. “Alright. We can take time. I’ll sleep with you,” Aoba said. “I like the things you enjoy. I liked seeing you smile.” He stood, wrapping his arms around Noiz from behind. “And I want you to know, Noiz, I want you to know that you can like… tickle me anytime. Because I enjoy your smile.”

Noiz leaned his head back, pressing himself against Aoba, and smiled.

“I enjoy you, too.”


End file.
